


Early Morning Company

by Boycott_Love



Series: Angel Wings and Demon Tails [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Angels, Demons, M/M, Riding, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boycott_Love/pseuds/Boycott_Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Demon's Angel. Well, more like 1.5 instead of an actual part 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning Company

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I got really stuck on this sequel. I started it over like ten times because I...well...got stuck. Sorry if it sucks, might make it a series though and add more to it. But this, right here, is just smut.

Patrick woke up to rays of sunshine streaming in through the blinds and practically burning his retinas. He groaned and rolled over away from the window then reached out, finding that the space beside him was entirely empty. He sat up and just kind of stared at the empty space as if Pete had suddenly turned invisible and would pop up at any second. But no such thing was happening.

Patrick got out of the bed, wearing nothing but an over-sized shirt that he found in the back of the closet, and fanned his wings a little to stretch them a bit. He shuffled toward the kitchen where he heard the clinging of pots and pans but didn't smell or hear anything being cooked.

"'Trick? What are you doing up?" Pete asked, glancing at Patrick then putting down a pan and going over to the fridge.

"Wondered where you were." Patrick mumbled, still semi-sleep and rubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Then Pete turns back to Patrick and examines him. "Where'd you get that shirt?"

Patrick looked down at himself then shrugged. "Found it. Would've worn pants if someone didn't take mine." 

Pete then looks down at the red flannel pajama bottoms covering his legs. He pouts and says in a childish tone, "Sowwy, Patty." then grabs a carton of eggs from the fridge, closing it shut with his foot. "Hungry?"

"You're going to cook?" Patrick asks because Pete wasn't really the best when it came to cooking things (that was more Andy's forte) and the thought of Pete cooking worried Patrick a little. When Pete nods to Patrick's question, Patrick says, "Yeah, um, maybe you shouldn't. Don't ask why because you already know."

Pete rolls his eyes. "Fine." Then he puts the eggs back in the fridge. 

"And put a shirt on." Patrick adds before he turns and starts to go back toward the bedroom.

"Put some pants on." Pete counters and when Patrick turns around to glare at him he says, "You know what, never mind. You look better without them. But if you want me to put on a shirt, why don't you give me yours?"

"Because then I'd have nothing on."

Pete grins widely. "Exactly."

Patrick rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing what Pete was implying. "No, Pete."

"Aw, c'mon, why?" The demon whines.

"Too early, it's like, eight-something."

Pete steps closer to the angel. "It's never too early."

Okay, he's got him there. "Joe and Andy are upstairs."

"So?" Pete says drawing out the word and wrapping his arms around Patrick's waist. "They sleep like bricks and probably won't get up for another three hours, four at the most. Do you have a  _good_ reason why we shouldn't?"

Patrick furrows his brow and twists his lips to the side in thought. He didn't really have any other excuses besides those two and since Pete couldn't cook, he didn't have much else to do besides watch TV and eat poptarts for breakfast. And Pete had sex on the brain now and once it was there it was hard to make it go away unless he actually fucked Patrick outside of his own mind. Even Patrick knew that.

"I take your silence as a no." Pete says with a smirk, leaning down and pressing his lips to Patrick's neck, making his breath hitch. "Bedroom?"

Patrick nods fervently then grabs Pete's hand in his, leading him away to the bedroom.

Pete grabs Patrick's hips and pulls him toward him, then leans against the door to close it. He connects their lips passionately and slightly desperate and Patrick melts into it, moaning against Pete's lips. Then he hooks his fingers into the waist of Pete's -well Patrick's- pajama pants.

Then Pete breaks the kiss. "H-how d'you want it?" He pants.

Patrick shakes his head. "You tell me, I picked last time."

 _Sounds more like we're discussing dinner rather than sex,_ Pete thinks, but it's not an issue because Pete knows exactly what he wants. "Want you to ride me, so I can see all of you."

Patrick can work with that. He turns them around and pushes Pete toward the bed until he falls backward onto it, sitting up on his elbows. Patrick lifts the hem of his shirt to move his legs a little easier, staring down at Pete with seductive half-lidded eyes as he mounted him. Pete sits up some more then runs his hands up Patrick's smooth thighs until his palms slide over the curve of his ass, realizing then that Patrick wasn't wearing underwear. Then Patrick places a hand to Pete's chest, pushing him back until he's flat on his back. 

"Get the stuff." Patrick says, then Pete is reaching toward the nightstand and grabbing the lube from the drawer. He immediately pops the cap, coating his fingers in a generous amount of slick and dropping the bottle on the floor. He reaches down between Patrick's legs and glides his fingers across Patrick's hole before pressing one in, causing Patrick to suck in a quick breath. Pete fucks the angel with the one finger then adds another and Patrick lets out a small moan when he does. Pete sits up, getting eye level to Patrick's collar bone, then he grabs at Patrick's shirt with his free hand.

"Off. Take this off." He breathes against Patrick's skin and Patrick obeys, ridding himself of the large shirt quite easily despite his wings.

Pete adds a third finger and Patrick flinches slightly when the digits brush against his prostate. Soon, Patrick starts a quiet mantra of  _fuck me_ and Pete can't just ignore that. Hearing him even swear was a rare thing but at times like this, Patrick's filter was nonexistent. _  
_

Pete slips his fingers free and starts pulling at his pajama bottoms but apparently not fast enough because Patrick reaches down and helps him get the pants down until Pete's able to kick his legs free, his stiff member springing out to the slightly cooler air. Then he bites Patrick's collarbone, sinking his teeth into the skin hard as he palmed his angel's ass with both hands. Patrick groans at the stinging pain, gritting his teeth behind his lips as not to make too much noise but that's the opposite of what Pete wants. He releases his teeth from Patrick and looks up at his flushed and slightly shiny face.

"Let it out." He growls, reattaching himself to Patrick's skin and biting down harder until Patrick makes the melodic sound he's been wanting to hear. "That's it," He mumbles, gently licking and kissing at the red spot sooth away some of the pain. 

Pete grips Patrick's ass and spreads his cheeks, bringing him down until the head of his cock disappears into Patrick's entrance. Then the angel runs his fingers through Pete's hair, finding a good spot to grab on to, and pushes himself down the rest of the way until Pete bottoms out. Pete moans as he does then allows his hands to roam Patrick's beautiful body for a moment before wrapping one arm around his waist and putting the other back on his ass.

Patrick pulls his hips up then slides down Pete's dick as he starts to babble about how gorgeous his angel is and thrusts up to meet Patrick. The rhythm starts slow, savoring the moment for as long as possible, holding onto each other, and kissing softly as if it were the very first time they've had sex. Pete's tail starts to sway from side to side, calm and smooth, and Patrick reaches for it, running his index finger along the length. It spirals itself around Patrick's arm, holding on firmly. He always admired his demon's tail.

Then the tail unwinds itself and Pete looks up at Patrick, his eyes black as tar, and smiles wickedly, showing off his teeth. He kisses Patrick, soft and sweet, then quickens the speed of his thrusts, hard and fucking  _perfect._ Patrick moans every time Pete's hips make contact with his ass, their skin slapping against each other and Pete's cock slamming against Patrick's prostate.

Patrick cries out, moaning his lover's name and arching his back, giving Pete the opportunity to close his lips around one of Patrick's nipples and he whimpers at the unexpected sensation. But it sends shivers up his spine at the wave of pleasure crashing into him. Then Pete palms Patrick's ass again, gripping hard enough to leave an imprint and pushing Patrick down on his cock repeatedly, pushing himself deep inside and the angel nearly screams.

Pete bites his lip and feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge and he knows that if he hears another sound like that he's gonna--

" _Fuck!_ " Patrick shouts in a moan dripping with one of the deadly sins and Pete loses it. He thrusts up a few more times, sharp and erratic, and wraps his arms tightly around his angel, spilling inside of him and letting out a deep groan. Then he reaches down and covers Patrick's cock with his fist, jacking him off quickly. Pete uses his free hand to place at the nape of Patrick's neck and pulls him in, kissing him fiercely. When he bites Patrick's lip, Patrick moans and digs his nails into Pete's back, cumming so hard that he sees spots behind his lids and his release running down Pete's knuckles.

They sit and breath for a moment, coming down from their pleasured highs and allowing their heart rates to return to normal.

"Mmm, love you, 'Trick." Pete hums, barely audible to Patrick's ears.

"Love you, too, Pete." Patrick mumbled in response, resting his head in the curve of Pete's neck as Pete held him and fell backward so that he and Patrick could rest properly.

 

***

 

Pete and Patrick are watching TV in the living room and (since Pete couldn't cook) decided they'd eat toaster strudels. 

Joe comes down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and almost running into a wall, then he looks up and glares at Pete and Patrick. "I hate the both of you. So. Much."

"Oh, hey, Joe!" Pete says in false excitement. "Sleep okay?"

Joe answers by flipping him off and stomping off to the kitchen to find food. When Andy comes downstairs a few minutes later, he simply pretends they aren't there but resembles Joe's sleepless attitude.

Pete looks at Patrick and starts to grin like he knows a dirty secret, it's very dirty but not really much of a secret anymore. Patrick looks at him and tries and fails to suppress the urge to laugh but Pete barks out a laugh like he knows the funniest joke in the world.

Joe walks past them toward the stairs with a poptart in hand and as he makes his way up the stairs he shouts, "Fucking  _hate_ you guys!"

But Pete knows he doesn't really mean it.

 


End file.
